Wanna Bet?
by Skyeblux
Summary: Rose and the duplicate Doctor are back traveling in the TARDIS and are getting annoyed by the constant besmirching of their 'inferior' physiology.  Time to teach the Timelord a lesson.  PWP/Angst/H/c/introspection and Tencest!
1. Chapter 1

AN:~ This started out as a prompt to the 'Kinkmeme' then grew roots and sprouted three heads! Sorry, it's definitely not just PWP anymore but mixed with a lot of introspection, angst and H/C. I'm not happy with it but life has been manic recently and I'm getting rusty on the writing front and just wanted to put something out there!

Pairings:~ Ten/TenII/Rose

Rating:~ ADULT

Summary:~ Rose and the duplicate Doctor are getting fed up with the Timelord constantly besmirching their inferior physiology and decide to teach him a lesson but begin a journey that will change them all forever.

Disclaimer:~ I do not own nor make a profit from my obsessive compulsion with Doctor Who.

The Doctor slowly floats to the surface of awareness passing effortlessly through the mental barriers that he worked so hard to erect for when, even he, a Timelord, has to occasionally sleep - Light sleep triggers that will wake him like an alarm clock at the slightest, out of place sound but let him sleep deeply otherwise, memory shields to try to dampen the force of nightmares, too vivid and too real to result in anything less than screams and a trembling wreak of a millennia old ambassador of an exist species. That would be painful and embarrassing. Sure Rose teases him a lot about his arrogance and ego larger than his hair but to make the decisions he has to make, to live the life that cruel fate has forced on him, one has to be arrogant least the universes crumble in a moment's hesitancy.

He smiled as his senses returned knowing he would awaken in a soft bed beside two soft, warm bodies, not alone, never alone for now but as a sleep tousled hair tickled his eye and he went to brush it aside, he discovered with alarm that he couldn't and suddenly he was wide awake.

His eyes shot open to reveal a dimly lit bedroom, Rose's he was sure, it smelt too feminine and some gender differences never change no matter what the species. Personally he liked the metallic tang he awoke to in his own room, cluttered as it is with bits and bobs of salvaged alien tech. He was alone in bed which was somewhat alarming as he distinctly remembered passing out between his double and their blonde goddess after an energetic bout of lovemaking that, with his ever superior Time Lord metabolism, had left his companions in an ecstatic, unconscious oblivion. There was no way they would have woken before him. What was even more alarming were the tight, course ropes that bound each stretched wrist to the rot iron headboard. Damn, good knots, professional knots, knots made by someone accustomed to having to break out of knots. Tugging to try to get some slack only pulled the binds tighter, chaffing his wrists and leaving him panting and, he had to admit, a little turned on as his imagination raced with the possible tortures devised upon a helpless, naked body.

"Finally awake then?" an achingly familiar and nonchalant voice chimes from the doorway. Craning his neck, he's met by the sparkling eyes of his double, dressed in his blue suit, right down to a neat, burgundy tie.

"I'm not the one who's taken to sleeping half his life away," he grumbles, preferring not to give an inch to his double, feigning indignance and boredom. He can handle Rose in her impish spurts of bondage but there's a certain humiliation and competition when it comes to the jibes and smugness of his own face.

"Oh no, you're the superior Timelord with saintly patience who deigns to put up with his pet humans and their inferior biology," his voice doesn't sound hurt but more akin to amused.

"It's easy to insult me when I'm tied to a bed. It's a pity you have to go to such extremes to have any sense of power over me," the naked Doctor quips and raises a challenging eyebrow. "Untie me and I'll show you superior. I can have you begging in seconds and not bother to finish you off for hours, days even."

"Boasting again is he?" Rose wanders casually in upon the surreal scene, sipping what smells like hot chocolate. She at least is still rather bedraggled looking and only wearing an extra large t-shirt that floats and shimmies as she walks, without a care in the world, to set down her drink and sit in on the edge of the bed. "You men and you're bloody testosterone!"

"Timelord's don't have testosterone, our hormones are light years in advance, want to find out?" He glances sidelong at the bounds and pouts in the way he knows she just can't resist. As much as he's not overly concerned with his current situation, he'd much rather turn the tables and take control. He's too old and too broken to be so exposed. Yes, he mocks their humanity but only because the thought of being that helpless is terrifying to him. He's let them in, so much more than he ever intended, but for their own protection and his, he needs that superior biology, not to outlast them but so as not to fall, to let go, to feel too much, because if that dam breaks it would wash him away and he knows he's the weak one, the coward but it's survival, his last remaining defence.

"Oh there's a lot of things I'd like to find out Doctor!" Rose crawls seductively up the silken mattress, tongue poking devilishly between her teeth. She comes to a rest beside him and leans down to whisper in his ear. "I'd like to find out what you sound like when you beg. What those ancient eyes look like when you lose control. How long your superior physiology could hold together with your cock sucked sore in my throat and your ass full and fucked up the mattress." He swallows reflexively and shudders as warm breath ghosts against his other ear. He hadn't even sensed the other man moving. "Don't forget, I was you. I know exactly what's too much and what's not quite enough. I know exactly what to do to make you scream." His eyes squeeze shut as he draws in laboured breathes, knowing now that he's done for but wanting to be ripped apart.

He stammers an unconvincing retort, hoping to lie even to himself. "You two will be exhausted, have to go for a little human nap, long before you break me so why don't you just except the truth and we can all have some fun?"

The bastard in blue laughs, actually laughs. "We can always sleep in shifts! You're not going anywhere and if you're that unfazed, you won't mind a little wager?"

Oh, he knows this is dangerous territory but does he really look like that precocious when he smirks? "Fine by me!" he shrugs, apparently unconcerned.

"We can do whatever we want to you and to each other but you're not allowed to come, not unless we give you permission and we're not going to do that until you swallow that pride and beg. If Rose or I give up or get bored first then we're your slaves for a full week, you own us, anything you want but if you break first then you marry us in a proper, traditional Earth wedding, white dress, cummerbunds, all the frills with Jackie Tyler as your official mother-in-law."

The Doctor visibly shudders and Rose can't help but laugh at the wide-eyed look of horror that passes over his face. "You wouldn't?" he gasps.

"Have to make an honest woman outta me sometime, Doctor. Course, you'll need to marry the Doctor in a civil ceremony which might not go down too well since you look like brothers and 21st century earth isn't big on bigamy either but we can travel into the future for that one."

She's positively giddy.

"That's not fair, I could manipulate you both into being my sex slaves for a week away if I felt like it and don't pretend you wouldn't enjoy every second. The wager's totally unbalanced. No deal."

"What are you worried about if you're so sure you're going to win? Doubting that Timelordy manliness?"

Oh very clever. "No, it's just the principal of the thing. It's blatantly unjust."

"Ok, ok," Rose acquiesces. "No promises except that you'll at least think about it?"

Does this really mean that much to her he wonders? His double wouldn't have initiated this. Is she unhappy, or insecure in their relationship? Does she really need that commitment to feel like she's loved or that she belongs? Suddenly he's very worried that the one woman in all the multi-verse he'd do anything to make happy has been pretending all this time. It pains him to think that maybe he and himself weren't enough for her or didn't make her feel amazing and wonderful and as uniquely special as she is. He meets the other's eye in question and he falters, a brief glimpse of concern crossing his brow before adding, "It's just a game, a test of wills if you like, really."

The energy's shifted somewhat into an uncomfortable place. He's talked to Rose about this before and while their tied up lover was still asleep. He's pretty sure that she only suggested it for the comedy effect of seeing the Doctor's reaction but he did catch her once browsing through a bridal magazine. She said something about 'every little girl's dream' but countered quickly that she wasn't a little girl anymore and wouldn't change what they had for the world, or several worlds for that matter. He thinks he just caught her on one of those tired, nostalgic days when even the brilliant Rose Tyler craves a little normalcy. After all normalcy's almost exotic to her now. Still just to be sure he realised that he and the other Doctor should talk to her more and actually tell her things. The Doctor still hasn't said those horrifying three words though they all know he feels them, well about Rose anyway. He, well he just suddenly came with the package, didn't he? Rose wasn't going to leave either of them out in the cold. Still, sometimes he feels like a stray dog. He knows she loves him but he's a shadow of what he once was, what the other, still is. He doesn't think things would have worked out the same if the Doctor had left them stranded alone together, like he intended. But mostly he tries not to think about it too much. He's damn lucky and so blessed and he only has one short life now so he may as well enjoy it while it lasts. Strange he always thought that humans would feel so much more, were so alive because their time was short and burned so brightly but actually they feel less because there's no time to spare on self-reflection, misery or even happiness. Life goes on. Rose is scared that they don't feel as strongly for her with her limited human perspectives, as she does for them but the reverse is true. When a Timelord loves, Rassilon help him because he has the ability to analysis and feel every shred of that emotion so intensely. When a Timelord chooses to let himself love, it doesn't 'set his world on fire', he's doing it in spite of the whole universe. He's allowing that emotion priority over rainbow painted skies, floating mountain ranges, phosphorescent clouds that sink to down the earth so it feels like everything is upside down, the hunger to explore, to roam, to dash into danger and experience everything, all for experiencing one emotion that's so terrifying and foreign to the man who lives on, who has the responsibility of every humdrum life on his shoulders and knows how quickly and violently they can end.

It's time to assert his humanity and get them all out of this funk because appreciated or not, wanted or not, he's the bridge that brings them together.

"Ok, scrap the wedding. If you lose, you have to eat pears!" The Doctor makes a grotesque face and an appropriate belching sound and Rose laughs and he can't help but join her.

"Ok, deal! Do your worst! Or your best, it won't matter. Your asses are mine!"

A competitive challenge, this is far more comfortable and that dormant arousal is stirring sweetly again in the pit of his belly as he saunters over to the splayed out Doctor and without any warning grabs his cock and stuffs it into his month.

The Doctor aches and yelps in surprise, keening beautifully in almost pain at the sudden and overwhelming stimulation. Oh, he knows how he loves this. He's on the dirty side in this incarnation and the degradation and primal lust of it burns his passion. The man's already getting hard as he hallows his cheeks and applies enough pressure to burst him. The Doctor's thrashing in the ropes, his face screwed up exquisitely and he knows there's not a single thought in his head except, "FUCK!"

Rose's eyes widen then cloud over with pure desire, God they are so hot. Watching that mass of unruly brown hair rise and fall and the sounds her Doctors make, one moaning wantonly and the other struggling so desperately to regain control. She slides back up onto the bed without even realising she's moved and gently strokes his pained face. The other Doctor does something and he cries out, "Too much!" Wicked gleaming eyes look up the length of that taut, toned body and laugh as he simply replies, "Tough" A desperate, ragged groan escapes wet lips as the other's head bends again to his task and she has to smother his cries.

His kiss is brutal if somewhat erratic, hard and hot and it sends a jolt straight to her clit as she grips his head and contorts herself half on top of him. The hard planes of his body, the effort of his gulped breathes, his glistening chest rising and falling with tension and strain, are too much as she kisses down his neck to her goal. Frantic, open mouthed kisses on heated, trembling skin.

The man between his legs feels gluttonous, starving as he laps at the rimmed muscles of the other's cock. The thrill of bringing someone he loves so much pleasure, too much is both empowering and weakening. He's never done this before, not to that extent, but he knows it's what the other wants, needs. Living a life as intense and extreme as his, at times it takes a gargantuan effort to break through his reality enough for him to actually feel, break through all the other shit and draw his focus. He grips roughly at the other's sharp hips, holding them down and yes, he hears it, the groan, the pleasure in being controlled in relinquishing just a little of that constant responsibility. His digging fingertips will bruise but the Doctor will appreciate the sensation and he kind of likes the idea of marking the other. He relaxes his throat and swallows deep, loving the limits that he's pushing his own body to, loving that he's doing this for the Doctor.

There's a straggled cry from above him and he glances up to see the others face creased in pleasure and pain as Rose, the little minx, bites down hard on a strained nipple. He told her not to be gentle this time. Told her how the other wants it but is too embarrassed to ask. She looks a little worried and unsure but when she does it again and he screams, "Fuck, oh Rose!" there's a radiant beam on her face and a look of awe and wonder. The Timelord never swears, never. It's not that he's a prude, just feels that he needs something descent to swear about and little shocks him anymore.

When he finally regains enough sense to look at her, there's pure adoration in his eyes and he sweeps them down to his counterpart who is shocked by the inclusion, even more shocked by the mouthed words, "Thank you". That's torn it, now he wants to completely ravish this man, fuck him 'til his dick falls off. He doesn't care.

Yet he slows his manic sucking, letting him slip free as he moves down to lavish his balls in saliva and pre-come. He teases them with a pointed tongue and meets Rose's eyes to guide her on the change of pace. She moves up the bed and cradles the other's head in her hands almost reverently, bowing gently to kiss him with sweet, wet caresses and he does likewise, French kissing the swollen ball sacks like they were ambrosia. The Doctor actually shivers and there's a squeak of fear. Abuse he can handle but tenderness?

Rose languidly rises above him and daggles her right breast above his mouth and he's all to eager to swipe at it with that dexterous tongue, to latch onto the puckered nipple and swish and swirl around it, tasting that sweet uniqueness of their Rose. She purrs happily above him, switching breasts with a ghost of a soft smile that becomes a teasing grin as she taunts, "Sure you don't want to come yet? We're just getting started." There's bliss and misery in the other's eyes as he moans around her and sucks harder than she was expecting, stifling a surprised whimper from her lips and a smirk from his. Well that's his answer is it? He's really going to let them do this?


	2. Chapter 2

Continued…

The Doctor in blue, still fully clothed just to add a touch of humiliation into the mix rubs his nose along the other's throbbing cock, breathing out warm breaths against the moist skin before flattening his tongue and tracing it along the length. He rests just the tip then, in his panting mouth and sucks gently, mingled with kisses and circular licks around the crown. Rose is straddling his chest now, leaning her weight on him and slowing his breathing as he throws his head back and gasps for air. She moves her drenched folds above him and gives him a questioning look, hesitant once more but he only smiles that goofy grin and strains his neck to reach her.

Oh God he's so good with his tongue, tracing her lips and worrying them between his gums, licking long strokes from her entrance to her burgeoning clit. The other smiles around the cock, that with all this attention is weeping and purple with need and decides to let Rose have some uninterrupted pleasure, backing off to kiss and lick his way down the tensed inner thighs, behind the knees and swirling around the tender, responsive ankles as Rose's whimpers grow to fever pitch.

"You can grind down on him, he won't mind," he offers helpfully. She looks struck between shock and heated desire before mumbling, "I don't what to hurt him, or suffocate him?"

"Don't worry sweetheart. He can hold his breathe for a long time and I know he would love to be buried and crushed completely in you, your scent, your taste, Rassilon Rose, you're gorgeous."

She smiles meekly and does as instructed crying out at the intensity as the Doctor's efforts redouble and he practically chokes on her, gulped her in like air. She can feel the deep groan reverberate through her and his eyes are clenched shut as he moves constantly and greedily. She experiments with a rotation of her hips and more pressure and feels him buck wildly without the other to hold him down. She screams completely by surprise as her orgasm shudders through her like a lighted rope of wick to dynamite and abruptly she feels the scratchy texture of a suit jacket at her back, strong arms guiding her up, off and into a firm embrace. They're just sitting on top of the Doctor now, like he's a blasted rug or something but his eyes are full of affection and love for his two 'humans'.

Eventually she slides off him and sprawls out at his side touching and stroking tenderly as the other bends to kiss him and savour her own flavour on his lips. In moments like this she really believes that this can't possibly be real, that she's finally had some sort of mental break and has been lost inside her head fantasising as her body rocks back and forth in some padded cell back on Earth.

When the two men, that look so alike, pull apart there's desperation and heat in their gaze. Both at this point are so turned on it must hurt and either have yet to find release. Then, without haste but perfunctory determination, the other begins to undress, his eyes never leaving his counterpart and the honesty in that gaze is breathtaking, both surrendering, both admitting that they want one another and not just because of Rose and not just for fun but something much deeper. Oh the sex between the three of them has been fantastic but this open acceptance of one another has been a long time coming. Normally the other is just used as a prop or a handy and willing body but this is more.

Now naked, the Doctor leaves for a moment, going into the en-suite and emerging with a glass of cool water, he slugs down several gulps and then, with such sensitivity and affection, kneels beside his captive and gently pours water into his mouth with one head steadying the bound Timelord behind his head, fingers occasionally raking through sweat drenched hair. He sets the empty glass aside and cleans off the other's mouth with a damp flannel, pausing to kiss his forehead, cheeks and lips. They never show one another such intimacy. Rose is astounded and filled with such warmth and love for these two amazing men. Maybe it just needed one to break, to initiate because neither are acting awkward or embarrassed but rather just being and savouring the moment.

The free Doctor moves back down the bed and comes to rest between the other's legs. He simply strokes along the shaft and down to his balls gently, almost absently, as if he's lost in thought. The other lets out a long, slow breath and shifts in his bounds, getting more comfortable, closing his eyes and enjoying the soft sensations.

Suddenly his eyes flash open and Rose is on her knees crying out a warning, "Doctor! Stop!" Shit she thought they were getting somewhere but now he's gone and made it piety and about power and one-up-man-ship again. She can't believe her eyes. The Doctor's slicked a finger with saliva and is applying pressure well, there!

He ignores her and raises his eyes to meet those others of deep brown. There's shock in them and fear and it almost breaks her as in hundreds of remembered situations where she's felt that protective need and compassion towards this beautiful creature as events turned sour. "Doctor!" she presses again.

They've never done this before. Oh he's taken him, her first (well second), the original Doctor has fucked his look-a-like good and proper, shorter life, he wanted to experience everything even if there was a slight chagrin at the Timelord being the only one with the necessary parts. He'd even asked Rose if she would oblige, they could easily acquire a sufficient toy but she had been reluctant, she didn't want to hurt him or for it to be a bad experience when she didn't have the necessary practice, didn't want him to associate her with that. But the Timelord's always stayed somewhat distant and aloof through their 'human' discoveries.

They're staring one another out but amazingly the Doctor's glare begins to falter, then breaks completely into something plaintive, almost pleading and this is definitely not just a game anymore. So he does want this? She'd never have guessed but supposes that yes, the other Doctor must've known on some level, sharing so much history and personality. But she doesn't think he'd ever have asked for it, ever have risked that kind of exposure around either of them, not without this provocation.

Her human Doctor smiles and it's not smug or 'I told you so', it's reassuring and humbled and so much is said in their eyes that's too soon for either to speak aloud. Both, after all, are men of action and yes, a lot of babbling but words, the kind of words that have real power are strangely bereft.

"Rose do you want to…?" and both look at her, accepting and inviting her to ride that straining cock but no, this time, it's not about her and that's well, that's fantastic. "I'd rather watch," she smiles. "Oh, but…I mean… if you'd feel more comfortable if I wasn't here. That's ok too, really. I'm…I'm absolutely fine." She smiles again, genuinely to show them that she means it because she really, really does. This is beyond progress, it's a bloody miracle and she has to laugh as yet another 'impossible' thing is proved possible.

It's her Timelord who speaks and his insecure words just continue to shock her. "Actually, I'd prefer it if you stayed. I…well…I haven't done in a long time…well…I've done this only a century or so ago but…not…THIS…when it matters…when it means something, with someone I…I love."

It's like all the air has left the room. She can see that her other Doctor is on the brink of tears or hysterics or just fainting with shock.

"I love you to, Rose. You know that? So much. I trust you, need you to help me and be with me for this?" and she is crying, silent but gushing tears that just won't seem to stop. "I love you, want you, need you, God, can't…can't imagine ever being without you. Either of you." She snuggles up on his chest and takes his hand in hers.

The other Doctor still hasn't moved. She's not sure if he's even breathed.

"Why?" he finally exhales. "I mean…thank you. And I…you have to know that I love you too?" Slight embarrassment descends so Rose, ever the quick thinker, breaks it. "You want me to untie you? Might be easier, make you more comfortable, more in control?" She reaches up to the tight knots but his voice stops her.

"No. I trust him, trust you. And I know I never actually said but, well, I kind of like this…even need it sometimes. It's so hard for me to let go." He gives her a slanted smile that belies the vulnerability he's feeling and she kisses him sweetly. "You're safe. We've got you."

With more determination now the Doctor reaches into the bedside cabinet and withdraws some super-duper 51st century lube before getting back into position. "I'll go slowly. I know you haven't, in this body and I know you're tighter than humans. Not exactly genetically evolved for this, not really a big Timelord pastime, too uncouth and primitive. I'll be gentle and if it's too much just tell me, we don't have to do this, it's ok."

"I know, thank you."

He knows the other man's scared. He slips a slicked hand around the somewhat softened cock of his twin and strokes up and down in a pleasant but not overwhelming rhythm to help him relax and hopefully feel good. He moves up to kiss him and this time it's so yielding and passionate but with a slow, mesmerising burn. His deep, expressive eyes tell him it's ok, that's he's ready, that he's surrendering. He moves back and slowly teases that beautiful, red, rosette, oiling the surrounding area, his fingers so slick, they glide like a soft massage and the Doctor's humming contentedly in the back of his throat and Rose is there, with him every step of the way, murmuring words of encouragement and love and stroking his pale, baby soft skin, occasionally rubbing at tighter knots on his strained arms and neck.

Their eyes meet to avoid surprises as he applies gentle pressure to the rim and slips in just a little, circling the tight muscle gently. They both let out a long, calming breathe neither even realised they were holding. The half human knows how much responsibility and trust his duplicate's placing in him and right now he'd die rather then betray that. He pushes a little further, "Alright?"

"Oh, yes." He gets a warm smile in return and pushes a little further, further still, further, until he's in up to the knuckles. He feels the muscles around his finger jump and tense. "Shush, it's ok. You're in control here. I'm not going to move until you're nice and relaxed and say it's ok."

The Timelord's furrowed brow belies a lot. The bloody man's thinking too much. He was afraid of this. Knows the Doctor can calculate every possible scenario in a heartbeat and has probably moved on from that to all the reasons why opening up to someone is a bad idea or torturing himself over feeling good when he thinks he doesn't deserve it. He just bets that he's picturing Gods knows what or who to dampen his arousal and enjoyment and hate himself once more. This is risky but he has to try or this is going to get very uncomfortable for him, even painful, very quickly.

"Remember that old Cypress tree, on the ridge on the edge of Father's estate? Well, I say Cypress, I say Father but you know what I mean. You used to go there to get away from everything, especially whenever we were hosting some big, secretive meeting and the other's looked at you like some mongrel scum. We'd run away from the voices and conversation in the great hall and down to the cliffs. That old tree never did bloom and yet refused to die and if you sat just under it and lay back just so, it was like you were floating, couldn't see the old gothic mansion or the edge of the cliff, it just dropped away and it was like you were floating on air, the verdant valleys of the glens of silence beneath you. The looming towers of the glass domed citadel refracted rainbows at the edges of their curves and bounced the sinking, second sun over the peaks of plenitude and forest of solace, creating a line of light that just stopped suddenly turning to shadow like someone had flicked a switch. And lying there, feeling suspended, just feet from where the ground gave way, you'd dream about the stars, the planets and their peoples and just let everything else fade away and disappear." He'd relaxed completely now and that finger had become two, moving slowing in and out without a reaction from the prone man.

Slowly he came to and clenched again suddenly, before laughing meekly and visibly calming. "You're doing it?"

"Yeah." He smiled to himself and they shared a laugh. "How does it feel?" Slight concern crossed his placid features, was he doing this right?

"It feels…oh, it feels so good."

"Yeah? How about this?" Deft fingers swiftly sought out the Timelord equivalent of a prostrate and the Doctor groaned and bucked helplessly. "Oh God…that's…wow…don't stop!"

He had to chuckle at that and resumed his stroking, slowing increasing the pressure and alternating with a few scissored movements that seemed to cause a little pain but he switched repeatedly back to easy, gentle strokes until something seemed to give and the Doctor was panting and breathless for real.

"More!" he moaned and wasn't that plea just exquisite?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes…hmmm…no. Try,,,try harder, faster first…..Ohhh by all the saints…!" He plunged more forcibly into him now, hitting deeper and harder and noticed the response of the Doctor's hips gladly jigging along to the rhythm, his cock hard and full again and his body beginning to writhe and squirm in pleasure. He added another finger. God, still so tight and both men, (obviously) were well endowed. Still, as he manipulated the muscle and stretched that forbidden hole he could tell that any pain he was causing was being eclipsed by pleasure. Good, to do this, to really do this to a Timelord, it was always going to hurt like hell, for both of them but if he could get him relaxed enough and aroused enough, the pain would hopefully be an after thought.

"I know it hurts. I'm sorry. It was always going to the first time with your (he bit his lip from saying 'superior') biology. We don't have to go any further. It'll take time," he reassured.

"No. Please…oh Doctor please….fuck me?"

Well that did it, almost, which would have been embarrassing as he couldn't exactly fuck him if he'd just come from those simple words but the Doctor swearing, begging and he called him 'Doctor', he never calls him 'Doctor'! Now he's completely smitten and even beginning to start self-depreciating himself as he never expected this but he's bloody well not going to think about that now, the mighty Timelord just begged, begged him to fuck him. Oh, it's evil but he can't resist. "What? Sorry, what was that?" That earned him a glare and he had to laugh.

"You win, ok? I'm begging. Please just…I need…" Rose is helping to double-team him now, stroking his cock in time to the other Doctor's thrusts. "Rassilon…please. I know it's going to hurt…but I've been hurt a hell of a lot worse. You know that, high pain threshold, me and this time it's for a bloody good cause. I want this. No, I want this with you. Please…please just fuck me….and don't…don't hold back…I can take it. I want, I need to …feel…feel you."

He wasn't going to argue with that especially because he was currently more turned on than he can ever remember being even through nine hundred years. There's a silent pantomime between him and Rose and then his slicking his cock and rubbing it just there, posed to enter, savouring every ripple, every sensation and he knows he should be gentle but he also knows the Doctor and knows as the saying goes 'it's better to rip the band aid off quickly'! He thrusts in, all the way in, balls deep and the Doctor positively howls, first in pain and then he's grunting and bucking in pleasure as Rose, as instructed, has swallowed him whole at the same time and it's all too much. The Doctor starts a steady but deep rhythm and oh, he's so tight, but the stimulus feels so good, overpowering and he's panting now and trying desperately to regain his control. He wants to make this last and he wants to make it so good for his Doctor, HIS Doctor.

He's a bit erratic but he can't help that, this means so much to all of them. He's never seen anything so beautiful, the frozen glacials of 'Woman Wept', the untempered lightning storms of 'Corusa', the translucent pyramids of 'Hypothymediaflora', nothing compares to the sight of the Timelord writhing and flushed, every muscle strained and rippling tantalisingly under the strong skin, the sheen of sweat gathering in the dip of his hips, the keening growls and wails that he could get drunk on, his eyes either bright and so alive or clenched shut and rolling back in head. He pounds harder, faster, he's on fire and they're burning with him, so brightly in a million colours and with sun spots like a billion fireflies and suddenly he's coming and screaming, "Come, come now, come with me. Fall Doctor. I've got you" He does and he's lost and found again, broken and remade and Rose is hurrying to untie him and then hugging him so hard he thinks he might burst and there's a wonderful, solid weight trapping him at his waist and he never wants to move again. The universe be damned. He's fallen and he doesn't want to get back up again. How can he, how can he go back now? The responsibility, the guilt, the pain, the endless battle that never stops and is never won and this is why he can't love, it's just too much.

He chokes out a sob, his eyes fill and he can't stop it now. Now he's shaking all over and crying as if to rise a tide to wash him away but in a instant he's between two bodies and they're his harbour, they're firm and solid and not letting go and then he feels it, the touch of a mind seeking out his own and he tries to scuttle away to retreat but it won't let him. The mind's evading, seeing everything and wrapping it up, binding it in knots and burying it under lead and singing, singing to the sound of the universe. It's mirroring each thought and then smashing the glass and replacing it with light, billions of candles, burning for billions of lost lives and there's peace and so, so much love and he realises then that this mind is completely open, not shielding anything from him and he clings to it. It shows him every good memory from their shared brain, every time that life flourished and suffering was vanquished and then it shows him something even more personal. It shows him thoughts and feelings and desires since this mind diverged from his own. It shows him the lingering glances, the secret devotion and insecurities. It shows him that love is terrifying and that they can be terrified together.

When he opens his eyes Rose is gazing at him with such concern and he sees the loyalty there and the love. There's a vastness in her spirit that's almost as big as the universe and so unusual for such a small, fragile being and it's so selfless. He looks to his other side but the eyes there won't meet his and he realises there's guilt and self-hatred flooding from every pore of the other man's body. He leans up and kisses Rose chastely and then forces the other to look at him. "Thank you," he whispers, suddenly noticing that he's hoarse and doesn't it sound kind of sexy!

"Even when I travel with friends and companions, I'm always alone. The responsibility, the decisions, they're mine and mine alone. I'm arrogant and pretentious because if I allowed myself, even for one moment, to believe that I had an equal, that I could walk away and offload some of this burden, I'd run and never look back. I don't want to be like this. But the alternative, living, knowing so much and doing nothing, I can't… For the first time I don't feel alone anymore and it's liberating but also terrifying because it's all I've ever known for so long and getting my hopes up. I don't know if I can rebuild anymore."

The other's man nodding, fighting back tears himself. "I know. I know."

"I know you do and that's what really scares me. You understand completely which means I have to face things in you that I try so desperately to avoid."

"I'll leave…"

"NO. I don't want that."

"Then what?"

"I don't' want to be afraid anymore, of myself. And if I can love you, and I do by the way, then maybe I can love myself. Opening up to the both of you, getting used to sharing this and then having that stop, be taken away again, is an unbearable thought but I think that you both could maybe…save me…in the meantime, so when the time comes, I'll handle it. I may have lived nine hundred plus years but you and Rose, you're giving me back my life and I don't know how to ever thank you enough."

The two men, so damaged, so alone, so beautiful and so broken share a kiss that says consequences be dammed? When they finally break apart there's a teasing smile on the part human's lips, "Well you can start by eating a bunch of pears!"


End file.
